


For the Sevens

by UntappedChaos



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, Tanabata, Time Skips, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25122721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntappedChaos/pseuds/UntappedChaos
Summary: Tanabata — the human holiday that falls on the seventh day of the seventh month.  The day when humans celebrate some cheesy romance story about two gods too mushy to get their work done, so they only get to see each other once a year.Kouga thinks they're lucky.  Once a year is better than never.Maybe some deity up there took that thought as a challenge.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Kouga
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36
Collections: Sparks Fly in July





	For the Sevens

The humans were in fine form, dressed in their best clothes, the village thoroughly stringered-over with lanterns of a hundred different shapes. 

Bonfires roared.Food wafted.People danced.

Among them, Kouga observed how his wolves frolicked carefully, playing with children, mindful of their teeth and claws.His enclave would be established in the forest, and his people would now guard this place.

It was all because of the damn memories.

For a few years, he’d contented himself with occasional visits, stopping by to leave flowers and offerings in the bottom of the Bone-Eater’s Well, but he just couldn’t stand it anymore.His heart was here.

Many wondered why emotions couldn’t wax and wane as the fickle moon, but no, he was a wolf.Theirs were hearts as strong and true as the North Star, and he spent many days between regretting and reliving the way he gave his heart to one human woman who had long since vanished from his world.

Sometimes it was a punch to the gut, catching smells that smelled like her.Certain flowers, certain trees, and this damned well, especially.

Kouga picked a little at his offering.The bouquet was nothing special, but it reminded him of her; green _ine_ that would have borne a bounty in rice, a profusion of white apple blossoms that reminded him of the colors of her strange kimono as they intermingled with their broad, green leaves, and stalks of blue coneflower — the closest thing he’d found to the color of her eyes.

 _They were a little grayer_ , he thought, but really, he couldn’t yet bottle the stormy ocean for her.Not yet.

His life was long, though.He would figure out how.

Kouga mounted the hill, walking at the same leisurely pace humans tended to take.Flickering impressions and memories melded, blended, appeared and disappeared as he imagined Kagome walking beside him.He recalled the length of her stride, the tone of her easy chatter, the way she perched her thumbs on the straps of her bag until excitement encouraged her to gesticulate wildly.He could remember the silk of her hair, the heft of her body in his arms, the softness of her curves.A few times he was shocked to discover unyielding muscle in her arms and shoulders.Over time, her back grew strong as archery built her up.She became strangely divine, in her way; what at first had been a decision based on pack survival alone eventually became a craving for company, a desire to obey.

But his goddess — or perhaps it was fine to admit, if only silently, that she was long-since his master — had gone away.

The place beside him, where he imagined her, was unbearably gaping and empty.

The well still seemed to fade from sight, buried in a mound of creeping ivy; but Kouga pressed toward it, heavy heart weighing on his feet, slowing his stride, making him strain.Such a strange feeling.Did humans always deal with this?

Heart apart from instinct was painful.

This was one of the occasions where he regretted it.

Rather than leap to the rim, he had to drag himself.It wasn’t always so bad, but today was _that_ — that human holiday.They called it Tanabata, didn’t they?And it was based on some cheesy-ass romance about two lovers who only got to see each other once a year.

_As if this bullshit would work out so nicely._

Kouga’s heart throbbed, because once a year was still better than never again.

The smell of rice and apples and coneflower in his nose, he jumped down the well.

The world erupted in lights.

Sparkles swirled by.Streaks of power, rivers of power, fountains and starbursts of power were everywhere, and the world was an echo, a silence… and then suddenly a cacophony of unfamiliar sounds unnervingly close by.The lights vanished, leaving him in the dark.

Over rice, apples, and coneflower were smells that both whet his appetite and turned his stomach, ears assaulted with noise from the chatter of humans to the blaring of strange horns.Kouga shook his head, ears popping, and when he heard the sliding of wood on wood, he launched himself up to the mouth of the well.

A young woman shrieked, falling away from him.

He reflexively reached out, caught her arm, drew her close.

How could a heart feel so, so heavy, and yet rejoice so loudly, so quickly?

Kagome stood before him, all stormy-ocean eyes, skin a little paler than he remembered, arms a little softer.Her lip trembled, and suddenly the noise and the smells and everything else meant nothing.Here _she_ was.His goddess and mistress, the waned and hidden moon.

And not a thing to say.

She nearly dumped both of them back into the well when she jumped at him, arms wrapping around his neck with a quiet sob, but Kouga braced against it, leaned into it, buried his nose in that silken hair that still smelled like sunshine and fire, purity, flowers, and all the things that made his life mean something.

“Kouga…” she rasped, and couldn’t get out another word.

“Hey.It’s been a bit,” he offered, not too sure what to say himself.“Y’ been neglecting your archery?”

She let out a damp giggle.

“My high school didn’t have an archery club.Tennis just isn’t cutting it.”

“You’ve been good, then?”

“Define good,” she says, but there’s no need to answer.She holds him as close as she can, clinging for life.“I never thought I’d see any of you again.”

“…I thought the same.”

“How did you get here?”She only leans back enough to look him in the eye, but clearly possessed no intention of letting him go.Kouga wrapped his arms around her legs, and ignoring the way her yukata opened way too high to be proper, he wrapped her around his waist as he stood, striding toward the steps at the front of the building to take a better seat.

“Your guess is as good as mine.Today’s that human festival, isn’t it?Tabaneri or something.”

“ _Tanabata,_ you douche!” 

But she laughs anyway.He tucks her hair behind her ear, and can’t help how he’s smiling.It’s raining while the sun’s still out inside his chest, despair and hope together, because what a sweet, cruel dream this must be.

“It’s about two lovers who’re useless unless you put them in separate corners, right?”

She slaps his arm.“Do you know the story _at all_?”

“Not really.”

She makes a face that looks a lot like how he feels.Smiling and happy and yet there’s still a rueful despair about her.

“The goddess Orihime and the god Hikoboshi were married, but loved each other so much that they couldn’t get any work done.The other gods separated them by placing a great river in the heavens, and they were only allowed to meet for one day a year — the seventh day of the seventh month, on Tanabata.”

“You saying some god decided to part a river somewhere?”

“Time is also considered a river.”

Her eyes were sparkling in the low light.It was so, so beautiful.It filled his empty heart to bursting, to breaking.Just a second ago he was smiling and teasing.His smile was still there, wasn’t it?

So why was he crying?

How selfish, to regret a gift, but he did.He regretted and hated this chance.A cursed and beautiful dream that was dead set on killing him with its sweetness.

“Kouga?” she asked, voice trembling as he buried his head shamefully against her neck, wrapping himself around her, cataloging every change.“Kouga, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he rasped, but the answer was ‘everything.’“Nothing’s wrong.”

Everything was wrong.

Seeing her was wrong.

Being here was wrong.

Parting was wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Delighted and grieved, he pressed begging kisses to her jaw, reveled in her gasps, ignored her confused protests.He’d been with humans for a good while now; he knew what was and wasn’t proper.He wouldn’t do anything to make Sango scold him.He wouldn’t do anything that would truly make Kagome angry, but he needed this.

He was compelled.His master sat in his arms.She was vulnerable and hurt, and he was vulnerable and hurt, and he wanted to apologize and comfort and dote upon her every need.He wanted to pamper her until she smiled like the sun again, until she chattered in his ear relentlessly and made wild gestures because she was excited. 

He was the alpha of his pack, but he had long ceded dominance to this woman, and she still existed.

“Kouga?Kouga, I need you to look at me,” she said firmly, much more in control than the last time he’d heard her voice.She pressed against his shoulder, prying him away gently until he faced her.Kagome stroked his face, his puffy eyes, his trembling lips, with devastating affection.“Kouga… if this _is_ some sort of Tanabata thing… we probably only have until sunrise.”

He struggled to swallow, and nodded.

“It’s not far off,” she said.The only reason he didn’t bow to that statement, bent beneath the grief of it, was because her eyes, firm and determined, gave him a lifeline to hang on to.Forcing a smile, she said, “We’ve both cried our allowance.Now let’s laugh.Let’s talk.Tell me about the Feudal Era.How is everyone?”

“I’ll talk.Just let me…” 

Kouga eased into her arms again, pressing the bridge of his nose against the side of her neck as he spoke, bit by bit, about the people they both held dear.Rin was coming into her own.Kohaku was getting stronger.Sango and Miroku were still a fearsome pair, and having kids didn’t mean their occasional spats weren’t still impressively volatile.They were up to three already, since Sango had twins.All daughters, to Miroku’s amusement, and Sango still teased him about whether he needed a son.Inuyasha was a grumpy bastard.Sesshoumaru was an even grumpier bastard.Jaken had the most grump-powers of them all, and yet they somehow managed to occasionally exist together without destroying things, because Rin had taken a shine to Inuyasha and Sesshoumaru and Jaken were both going to have to get over themselves.

Good things.Happy things.

He didn’t tell her about Kaede, who probably wouldn’t last the winter.Kagome didn’t press, and for that he was thankful.Instead, he mentioned how some more half-demons were moving in.

Because they needed good things, and Kagome’s happiness ballooned at the telling of it.

The noises outside faded over time until he could only hear the familiar chirring of cicadas on the trees, the sound of the wind, a handful of people chatting.

“It’s almost dawn, probably,” he said, and his chest hurt just saying it.

“Should be,” she agreed, but her arms tightened around him.She pressed her nose to his neck, breathed him in.It was a wonderful thing, to have the one you loved enjoy your scent, but the circumstances couldn’t have been worse.

She slid off his lap, tugging self-consciously at her yukata.In the weak light it was hard to see, but she was wearing blue and green, and the fan and ribbon patterns were old enough in style to be familiar.He walked past her, picked up his bouquet from the ground, and held it out.

“I brought this for you.”

“I thought you didn’t know…?”

“Didn’t.I always bring flowers to the well.”

_Flowers for you.Flowers for memories._

She took it, the green of the _ine_ and the green of the apple leaves, the white of the apple blossoms, the blue of the coneflower — she was in the colors of his flowers.His offering matched her, a silly serendipity that he couldn’t decide whether to appreciate or hate.

She didn’t smell them.She hugged him instead, pressing her nose to his chest above his fur-lined armor, breathing him in.

“I miss you all,” she confessed.

“…We miss you, too,” he replied.Then, “Fuck it. _I_ missed you, ok?I don’t care what muttface thinks, but _I missed you_.”

He can feel the magic in the well fading.His opportunity was quickly fading with it, so he pressed a kiss to her forehead firmly, and with hands on both her cheeks, he looked her in the eye.

“I _will_ be back.”

She had that look on her face again, sunshine while it’s raining, happy and grieved, when she shoved him down the well.

Sunshine while it’s raining.

Good promises he has no way of knowing if he could keep.

So Kouga screamed into the void.He promised and swore, begged and berated, entreated every god and goddess of the eight-million-strong pantheon to come to his aid.

Because come Tanabata next year, he _would_ be going.

**Author's Note:**

> Woot! Here it comes, my work for the _Sparks Fly in July_ collection! This is only my second time writing a KogKag fic, and this time I'm going primarily from Kouga's perspective, so I hope you'll forgive me any inconsistencies. 💝
> 
> Have fun, and don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you think!


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